Lies, truths, and coverups
by wordy stuff
Summary: I'm not entirely sure how this will go or end yet? I'll only write more if people want me too because I'm not sure how it is? Its only short but if you like it please review and I will write more... Kalila was a normal girl. With a normal life. Or so she liked to think. Who is this shadowed figure stalking her long lost past? And can she get over the troubles that life throws up?
1. Chapter 1

You knew something was going on. Your parents hadn't acted like this for a couple of months now. You knew they were on the run from someone. Someone extremely dangerous. Someone who was out to kill your family. Anyway. Might as well look on the bright side. It was your sixteenth birthday tomorrow. Your sweet sixteen party was booked for three days time. That saturday. It wasn't a big do. It never was. You'd never known enough people to invite. It had been the longest you had ever lived in one place. You hear your mum calling you from downstairs.

Your mum had cooked tea. Your favourite. That's when you realised that this was serious. You were moving again.  
'Babe, I'm really sorry.' Things that start like that never end well. 'Were going to have to move away again.' You had thought that this time we were going to stay for longer. Obviously not.  
'How long till we leave mum?' You secretly didn't want to know the answer.  
'As soon as possible. I'm really sorry but we can't stay until Saturday. I know you were really looking forward to it.'  
'Ok mum' that's as simple as it always was you wasn't going to start asking questions. You knew she wouldn't give you any answers. So you'd learnt to stay quiet.  
You slip away back up to your room. There wasn't much left to pack. You'd found that it was easier just to leave it all in the boxes taking out what you needed as you needed it. A few clothes littered the floor you pick them up and dump them in the closest box.

The next morning you got ready for school. Same as always. Doing your hair and makeup. Fixing it up so it will stay while you were travelling. Before leaving you check the room for the last time.  
You call goodbye to your mum as you leave the house. Shutting the door behind you, you begin to take in every little detail on your last walk to school. Each turn in the path. Every crack in the road.

You leave at three sharp no-one knowing that they won't see you again. It brakes your heart every time. Purposely handing your phone into reception as lost after wiping it clean. You knew you wasn't supposed to keep any way of contact. But it was so tempting. You always have to be honest. Your phone book a tiny A6 book filled with all the contacts from everyone you had ever met. It was almost full. You'd have to get another soon. Its your little secret. You know you shouldn't but its your way of remembering everyone and everywhere. Its filled with drawings of people and places. Your little book of memories. Your life in a book.

You were at the front door before you knew it. Mum had said that you could open one of your presents before you left. You didn't have a clue what it could be. You never did. She was fantastic at keeping secrets and not letting the tiniest clue leave her lips. The car was packed. The back window filled with brown boxes.

You walk up the path for the final time. Into the house. It was silent. You assume this was part of the surprise. How wrong you were. In the middle of your clinically clean kitchen was a large box. Wrapped up. Across the top it read. Happy sixteenth Angel. You didn't recognise the handwriting. But it didn't matter at that moment because only your parents called you that. And no one had ever heard them. You don't know your real name. They said that they would tell you when you were old enough to understand. You wonder if that time was now.

You open the box. Carefully as always. Not ripping the paper. Keeping it in one sheet. Under the wrapping was a brown cardboard box. You open it. Not knowing what to expect. But this. This was not what you expected in a million years.

Contained within the box was the mashed up body's of your parents. Their decapitated heads looking up at you. Cold eyes staring fearfully up at you. Unblinking. You turn away. Not wanting to see the sight before you. It stung. You noticed a card on the table. A birthday card. You open it expecting it to be from your parents. The last reminder of their existence. It read:  
Dear Angel,  
Happy Sixteenth. (The printed message inside.)  
I'm watching you.  
Your next.  
You can run but you can't hide.  
Not from me.  
Love from your long lost past.  
x

The card slips from your fingers. Falling to the floor at your feet. You spin round not knowing what to do. Or where to go. One thing you did know was that you didn't want to be there. Not with your parents corpses. You run. As fast as possible. As far away as possible.


	2. Chapter 2

You ran for as long as you could. You didn't know how long it was. But you knew it had been quite a while. Mum had been taking you running daily since you were 7. You'd managed to beat her last time running for over an hour before gasping for breath. Mum. The memory stung. She was gone now. For good. You were never going to find out why you were running. Or from who.

You find yourself looking up at an old building. You didn't know where you were. But that didn't matter. There were steps outside. Somewhere for you to sit. Sit and rest and get your breath back.

You realised that you wouldn't last long without any money. In fact you probably wouldn't last a day.

Your chain of thought was snapped. As you hear someone ask if you were ok. You look up to see a man that you recognise. Not knowing where from. Maybe he was the man we were on the run from. You jump to my feet and backed away. Then he replied to himself. 'Of course not. Any young girl sat by herself outside a police station is in shock. So who's died?'

Another man came up behind him. Your back now pressed firmly against the wall.  
'Don't mind Sherlock. He's not that scary really!' You look up trying to find an escape route and ending up pressed against the railings. I was cornered. 'I'm John.' He said calmly pulling the other man back as he started to come towards you. 'And this is Sherlock.'

You recognised those names too. But not from your parents. No. Your old friends. Something about a blog. Yeah that was it. A blog written by John. About Sherlock. And his work. Now what did he do...

'What's your name? And why are you here?'  
'I...I...I think my name... Might be... Angel? I don't really know. I'm here because I was running. And I ended up here I guess...'  
'Angel? How come your in the streets of london alone at this time? Why aren't you at home? With your parents?'  
'Because somethings not right there, John. There's something at her house that she doesn't want to see or remember. So she's coming back with us for the night.' You look up at him.  
'Come on then. Its cold and late. And I'm sure you must be hungry Angel.' John says. You smile at him and warily follow them towards a cab.

'221B baker street please!' Says Sherlock as soon as your all inside. You sit opposite them looking at the odd couple. John was vaguely average. Average height. Just over average weight, by the look of him. Average skin colour, not too tanned. Just average. Whereas Sherlock. Well he was tall. Towering over both me and John. He was extremely skinny. And his skin. I could practically see his bones through it he was so very pale. This is when I notice that Sherlock has his elbows rested on his knees looking your. Watching. You look at him back. A small shiver runs down your spine. You sit back. As far away from this man as possible. What if he is the man who wants to kill me? What if his blog was just a cover up from his crimes. You don't look away. Just in case. You edge closer to the door. John hits his arm.  
'Oww!'  
'That wouldn't hurt, Sherlock, even I can tell that! Leave her alone okay? Can't you see that your scaring her?!' A slight sound of amusement in Johns voice.  
'Yes. Well of course I can see that. But I...'  
'No Sherlock. Stop it. And leave the poor girl alone.'

Sherlock frowned and pouted his lips. But turned his head towards the window to watch london flash by. You don't stop watching them.

10 minutes later the cab stops. Sherlock and John climbed out, you following them cautiously. You enter their flat, ensuring that you still had both of them in your sight. You follow them through after shutting the door behind you. And sit opposite Sherlock while watching John behind him in the kitchen making tea. Sherlock's sat there just watching you again.

'So, Angel.' Said John re entering the room with the tea. 'If your not sure what your name is what do you want us to call you? I have a feeling you'll be here for a little while. - Oi Sherlock I've already told you to stop that!'  
'Ummm... Well my parents have always called me angel. To begin with I thought it was just a nick name. You know like the ones all parents give their kids. But now... Well I'm not so sure. And I don't really have another name. My friends all know me at the moment as Kalila.'

John sits down next to Sherlock, and looks at you curiously. 'Can I ask how come you don't know your name... Kalila?'  
'Well that's obvious. Seriously John do you notice anything?' You look down hiding your reddening face. How could he read you so easily? Mum had been teaching you to hide for years?  
'Sherlock.' He moaned back 'I was asking Kalila not you!' He looks at you expectantly.  
'Well I suppose it'll be good to hear it first hand...' Mutters Sherlock.  
'Well... Ever since I can remember me and my family have moved every month or so...' The memories flooded back of your parents. A single tear fell from your eyes. 'This is the longest I have ever lived anywhere. Every time we've moved I have to change my name. I think my parents do as well. But I've only ever called them mum and dad so I'm not entirely sure. I don't know my name because it changes so often.'

John had moved next to you and had his arm wrapped round your shoulders.  
'Do you know why you keep moving Kalila?'  
'Well... Sort of. I know we have to move because of someone. I'm not sure who. Or why. But I think my parents did something to upset him. Or at least I think its a he.' John had now pulled you towards him into a hug.  
'Its ok Kalila. You can trust us.' You slowly started to relax hoping that what he said was true. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him back. You could feel the muscles in his face move, as he smiled at Sherlock, even though your head was turned away from them.

A floorboard creaked behind you. You jump pulling yourself away from John, ripping your body from his restraining arms, and into a ball in the corner of the room. Your head pressing firmly against your knees in the smallest possible shape you could make yourself into. You hate the fact you can no longer see who was in the room with you.

A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder you jump in surprise. You hadn't heard anyone approaching you. You try to shake it off. But find you can't. And end up hitting your head hard against the wall. You let out a strangled cry. And make a mental note to lock yourself in the bathroom next time.

'Hey Kalila its ok. Its only us. We don't want to hurt you promise.' You feel John sit down next to you. But he removes his hand from your shoulder. He remains next to you until finally you stop flinching every time anything makes a noise or moves.

You strain your ears listening to the hushed conversation between Sherlock and an unknown voice.  
'Who is she Sherlock?'  
'Her name is Angel. But everyone calls her Kalila.'  
'And why, can I ask, is a 16 year old girl in your flat?'  
'We found her in the street.' There was a long pause. 'And she has a case with her that I want to solve.'  
'Sherlock. You can not just pick up girls from the street whenever you want a new case or are bored! People will start getting the wrong ideas.'  
'Well those people will be wrong though. And I'm not planning on just picking up any girl. She's special.'  
'Sherlock. You can't seriously use her as an experiment.'  
You hug your knees tighter and attempt to shuffle further into the wall.

'Kalila, he's not going to cut you up, you know! We don't want to hurt you honestly. What Mrs Hudson here means is that he'd use you as an experiment to check that he was right and you do indeed have a case for him.'  
You look up curiously to see what this Mrs Hudson looks like only peeking your eyes over the top of your knees. You see Sherlock exactly where he was earlier. Still watching you. And in your place an elderly woman. She looked friendly enough. But your Mum had taught you never to judge a book by its cover or to automatically trust anyone. She notices you looking at her.  
'Hello dear, how are you? Hungry? I know these two aren't the most responsible people in the world and they probably haven't eaten since the last time I told them too! Would you like some toast?'  
You lift your head shyly from your knees and loosen your grip on your knees. You didn't realise how much your arms and legs ached you guess that it was from the run.  
'Umm... Yes please if you wouldn't mind Miss.'  
'No of corse not Kalila! Sorry I can't offer you anything better, someone has removed everything edible from the fridge.' She turned to look at Sherlock. 'Such a well mannered polite girl. You could learn a lot of respect from her. The both of you in fact.' She said turning to look at John at the last moment, before standing and moving into the kitchen to make some toast.

'Are you going to come sit with us now Kalila?' Said John offering out his hand to help you to your feet. You smile weakly at him back. Knowing there must be mascara all the way down your face. And take his hand. He pulls you to your feet and steers you towards the sofas once more. He sits down next to you. Not right next to you but the other side as not to frighten you off.

Mrs Hudson comes back in with the toast. And hands plates to all three of you, before sitting gracefully next to Sherlock. You thank Mrs Hudson for the toast and carefully take a small bite so as not to spill any crumbs.

'So, Kalila, how old are you then?' Mrs Hudson asked kindly, however you knew it was just small talk.  
'I'm 15 no sorry 16. Yes 16 today.'  
'Oh happy Birthday then! Did you get any birthday presents?'  
'Ummmm... Yerh...' Your voice starts to fail as you remember your only present. 'Nothing exciting though.' You smile weakly at her and blink back your tears.  
'Well I wouldn't say not exciting' interrupted Sherlock. 'Just not pleasant.' You broke down in tears. The horrific death of your parents, exciting? No.  
'Sherlock! Look what you have done now. You should know better young man.'  
John wraps his arm back round your shoulders. 'I think its been quite a long day for Kalila here, she does look very tired. Perhaps you should go sleep?' You look up at him, tears falling uncontrollably from your eyes. 'You can have my bed if you like. I'll sleep on the sofa. I don't mind. Honestly.'  
'A...are...are you sure?' You finally manage to say between your sobs.  
'Yerh come on.' He helps you up and shows you were the bathroom is.

Once you'd finished cleaning yourself up. You walk out bumping into John.  
'Oh... Sorry.'  
'Its ok follow me. I've just made your bed!' You follow him up and take in his room. Clean. But in a just had everything picked up and dumped in a cupboard sort of way. 'Is this alright?'  
'Yes thank you. Its better than alright.' You smile at him. He turns away and leaves them room. You lay down on the bed. Looking up at the ceiling. The swirling ridges. Round and round in knotty bundles. Eventually your eyes drift close.


	3. Chapter 3

You wake confused. The light peeking through your eyelids is all wrong. And the bed is slightly harder. You open your eyes. The first thing you see is a old wooded chest of drawers. Not one you ever remember having seen before in your life. You turn your head, hoping to find someone you might recognise or remember from the previous evening. You see an extremely tall skinny man sitting on the end of your bed silently watching you. You scream. Moving to huddle in the corner.

'Sherlock!' You hear someone call from outside your room. 'You'd better not be watching Kalila again. You've been in there all night. It very creepy you know! I'm surprised you've got something else you want to find from watching her sleep. If I find you in her room once more..!'  
The previous day slowly starts coming back to you. Sherlock. That was the man on your bed. Someone who wanted to help you. You hear footsteps coming up the stairs. John enters your room. You look at him. 'Sherlock! Not again! You need to leave her alone!'  
'He's ok really' you say smiling over at him. 'He's kinda sweet actually! Has he really been there all night?'  
'Mmmmhhhh' murmurs John 'all night I keep having to drag him out. And you' he says turning to look at you 'need to stop taking his side its hard enough as it is to win an argument against him.'  
'That John is because I am always so clearly right.'  
'Mmmmm whatever. Come on sherlock. Give the girl some space if you want her to get ready...'  
'Yep please hurry Kalila!'  
You watch them leave noticing that Sherlock keeps his eyes on you until the door is finally closed once more. You get dressed quickly as he asked and went to leave the room. You pull open the door and almost trip over Sherlock's long legs as he's sat with them outstretched against the wall by your room.  
'Oh sorry!'  
'That's ok!' He stands up and leads you to the kitchen.

'Not allergic to anything are you Kalila?' Says John standing over a cooker.  
'No, I don't think so'  
'That's good! Bacon eggs and tea alright?'  
'Ummm... Yerh thanks!' You smile at him and go sit with Sherlock who's still watching you. Almost protectively? You look curiously back at him. He just smiles. John comes in and hands you a plate.  
'So, Kalila...' Starts Sherlock.  
'What are you interested in?' Interrupts John after hitting Sherlock on the arm.  
'Well I like... I'm not too sure really I've always been told what to and what not to like... I like reading, losing yourself in another world, where anything could happen... Yerh' you smile weakly back at him. 'What are you two into?'  
'Murder.' Sherlock says blindly 'and criminals.'  
'Sherlock!' John gasps.  
'Problem? She asked and I answered! The only thing I'm really intrested in is murder and criminals! Surely you must know that John?'  
'Oh...' You say quietly. 'So that's why I'm here... Mrs Hudson was right I was just another experiment of a sort... But more of just a tool to get him a case...'  
'No, Kalila, its not like that. I promise. Yes, Sherlock is interested in the case, which we all know that you are the only one who knows anything about it. But we just want to help you.'  
'Yerh because that's a normal thing to do!' You reply sharply 'go pick a random girl off the streets, look after her and want to help her? Then take her back to your house and expect her to deliver you something to stop your boredom, and give you her life story?'  
Tears fill your eyes as you realise just how easily they had managed to reach into your life. Mum would be disappointed about how quick I was to trust them. The tears start to fall as you stand, leaving the plate on the sofa, and leave. Running. Once more. You hear the pair of them calling after you. And ignore them. What's the time? 8, you would just have time to go home get changed into your uniform and grab a rucksack of essentials before heading to school as if nothing happened. You do that. Walking to school as usual with two of your new friends.

By the last lesson of the day you'd completely forgotten all about the previous night. Everything was as it should have been. Until halfway through the lesson the head walked in. He seemed nice enough. Quite good looking too, most of the girls in your year had a crush on him. And you had to admit he did have quite a nice arse! Your bubble burst as you heard him ask whether Sir would mind if he had a quick word with you. Me?! What on earth had I done? You racked your brain. Then it all came back. Flooding in. You bit your tongue hard to stop the chance of you crying. You followed him out.


	4. Chapter 4

'Sir?' You ask politely 'why do you want to speak to me?'  
'Because Kalila I have been told that this morning you ran away from your uncles house. Is this true?'  
'My uncle?' Uncle? I have an uncle? I never knew this! I didn't think my parents had any siblings. And how did I run away from him if I've never met him?  
'Yes you stayed with him last night. After the incident with your parents.'  
Oh! Them.  
You follow him into his office.  
'Have a seat Kalila!'  
You sit down next to John.  
'Now! Let's see... You ran off this morning after getting upset over the argument you had with your parents just before you left?'  
You turn and glare at John. 'No!'  
'What did happen then Kalila?'  
'Sorry I meant yes, that is what happened. Sorry to have shocked you. Uncle!' The last word filled with violent sarcasm.  
'I'll leave you two here for a moment while you make up then shall I?' He turned and left the room leaving you alone with John.

'You!? My uncle!? What the hell? Are you crazy! My uncle! You don't even know my parents names never mind ever actually meeting them or fucking being related to either one of them! And to be trusted enough by my parents for them to let you look after me! What bloody planet are you on!? They would never have let you care for me! Even if... No! Especially if they had bloody met you!'  
'Kal I know you have the right to be angry with me but...'  
'Have the right to be angry with you! I should have the bloody right to kill you! Both of you! And an arguement! What the hell are you thinking!? Do you even know what happened to them!? No!... No you don't! And for your information their currently in the middle of their kitchen it tiny pieces!'  
'Oh Kal, I did know that, well I knew they were dead. Sherlock told me. That's the only reason he hasn't taken his eyed off you to protect you! We just want to help you Kal!'  
'Help me! Help me! How the hell did you think that you could help me? Bring me back to your flat and watch me!? How is that helping! My parents are dead!'  
'Because Kal, you can't live alone on the london streets. And there's someone after you. And we want to help you and keep you safe. Please forgive us?'  
'Forgive you! You just want me to forgive you! Then come back while you plan to contact my parents murderer to hand me in!? I don't think so!'  
'Were not gunna hand you to a murderer Kal! We want to protect you! Not kill you!'  
'Says the man who goes around the streets picking up vulnerable teenage girls! And then expecting them to tell you their life story just so you don't get bored! For all I know, you could have just set this up and killed my parents for a laugh!'  
'I could be that man. Your right. But I'm not. and neither is Sherlock. We don't just go round picking up random girls. Its only you Kal. The one exception and that's only because Sherlock noticed that you were scared. And alone. He knows how much danger you are in! And he wants to help you. Please Kal trust us, we will help protect you. I know we aren't exactly decent parents but you need someone to turn to. Its not like there's anyone else that knows as much as we do. Please give us a shot Kal. You can leave whenever you want. But we won't let you wander the streets. I promise Kal if you come back with us we will help and protect you as much as you want us to and as far as we can.'

Tears were streaked down your face as the head walks back in. 'Is everything ok now?'  
'I think so?' Said John looking at you.  
'Good then, so its sorted. I'll see you tomorrow Kal' he said just as the bell went.

You stand and leave the room. John wrapping his arm round you shoulders carefully as you leave the room. You don't bump into any of your friends as you leave luckily. You wouldn't have wanted them to see you in this state. Especially as they would want to know who John is.

You climb into a taxi with John right outside the front gates. Sherlock's already sat waiting. Johns clearly told him not to say anything as all he does is smiles before pulling his eyes away from you. The first time since you'd been staying with them. You feel the odd feeling vanish.

You spent the rest of the journey in silence. Noticing every move either of the pair made. While checking that the cab driver was not taking you somewhere unknown. You vanish into your thoughts. And deciding that you had to live in your own bubble because if you let someone in it wouldn't be a bubble anymore. Minutes later you feel the cab stop. You look up. At your house. Not baker street. You look at John.  
'To get your stuff. Nothing more.' Says John kindly. 'Although if you wouldn't mind I'm sure that Sherlock would be interested in seeing the crime scene.'  
Sherlock looks up at you excitedly, like a new puppy, pleading you with his eyes and bouncing on his seat nervously.  
You tilt your head slightly, telling him to follow you but without the hassle of forcing yourself to find words.

You climb out of the cab. Taking the key from your T-shirt pocket you climb the three steps to the door. You let yourself, Sherlock and John into the house. You walk through to the kitchen opening the door wide to let them enter. It was just how you had left it. The card on the floor and box wide open. You turn quickly and leave, letting Sherlock get in with it before you remembered what you had seen.

You carry the boxes still in your room downstairs. Leaving them in the hallway. You head towards the kitchen and are about to open the door when the pair of the walk out. Sherlock holding both your 'birthday card' and a piece of paper you had never seen before. You didn't remember anything else in the room while you were there. It was empty. And ridiculously clean. Where had they found that page. They stopped you seeing into the room as they shut the door right behind themselves. They guide you towards the front door, picking up the remaining boxes on your way out. They lock the door behind you, Sherlock not handing you the key back. You assume its so he can continue his investigations without you knowing. You decide not to mention this and head back to the taxi with your stuff. Eventually you arrive back at 221b.

'Boys! Where on earth have you been!?' Said Mrs Hudson the moment you walked through the door. 'Oh hello Kalila! Wasn't sure if you'd be back! Not after this morning anyway!'  
You smile at her. 'Sorry about that miss.'  
'That's quite alright Kalila, its good to have you back! Someone needs to teach this pair some manners! Anyway, have you eaten at all today Kalila? Knowing these two you won't have even be offered anything! I'm right aren't I!'  
You smile and look down at your feet.  
'Right! That's it! Boys! If you are going to invite another person to stay in my home then the least you can do is feed them! If you don't then...'  
'We will Mrs Hudson don't worry. We want to help Kalila in every way possible so that includes not starving her!'  
'Good! Then I'm sure you can manage to find something for her to eat tonight then!'  
John puts his hand on your back and pushes you up the stairs to their flat.

'God, that woman drives me crazy! Its not like she's our mum or anything!'Says John the moment you get through the door.  
'Well... To be fair...' You say 'what does she do that your mum doesn't? She looks after you, lives with you, cooks for you, cleans for you, and makes sure you don't do anything stupid! So she might as well be your mum!'  
John didn't reply he looked thoughtful for a while then just turned towards the kitchen to get food grumpily.

Your sat opposite Sherlock once more just the two of you as John just left to go buy food.  
'So, Kalila?'  
'Yerh?'  
'If you would like me to solve your case, well I need to know what you can remember so I can catch them?'  
'Okaaayyy... Do you want me to start now?' You ask slightly confused but getting where this was going.  
'Please!' He says enthusiastically 'that is if your ready to talk about it, I know John said you might not want to?'  
'No its fine I will tell you. Ever since I can remember we, me and my parents, have been on the run. We have never, had never stayed in one place for longer than a month. Apart from this last time. I knew we would have to move but I had been hoping as usual that we would be able to stay, to become a proper family. About two weeks ago my parents started to get a little jumpy and anxious so I assumed that we would be leaving soon. Something happened the day before my birthday. I think he left them a note. But we packed that night to leave the next day. My parents would have gone straight away apart from the fact they always liked to give me one day notice so I can say goodbye to my friends. We planned to leave yesterday. My birthday. They said that once I got back home from school I could open my present. My parents always were good at hiding things so I never had any idea what it would be like. I went home after school to find almost everything as I expected it to be. Car packed, house spotlessly clean. I could see or hear my parents so I assumed it was part of my birthday surprise. One year they had hidden clues all round the house until I finally found them with my birthday present. So I thought nothing of the quiet nature of the house. I entered the kitchen as I always did. I saw the box in the middle of the floor. It was wrapped up and written across the front was written 'happy sixteenth angel' I automatically assumed it was my parents because although I didn't recognise the handwriting, mums always told me to notice all the tiny details just in case, only my parents ever called me angel and I have never told anyone that. I opened the present. I always unwrap it so the paper is un ripped its a sort of challenge I suppose. Inside was the box you saw, I opened it and saw...' The tears filled your eyes 'well you know. I... I screamed it was horrid I wasn't expecting that. Not at all. Even if their presents can be quite odd. Never. I turned round and noticed the card. I opened it. I thought that itd be from my parents. A last memoire I guess. I was wrong. I read it and well you've seen that too I dropped it and I was feeling so sick I had to leave. I left the house but found I couldn't stop running. Mum had been training me so I knew I could run for quite a while before tiring. I felt as though I was being watched the whole time. Like someone could see me. I think that just made me run faster and further. I got tired though. I knew I would at some point but!' You shrug 'I didn't want to stop. That's when you found me. Is that what you wanted to know?'  
You looked back up, Sherlock was sat there still watching you but now John was sat next to him. You hadn't heard him come back. The tears remained in your eyes refusing to leave their chilling trail. 'Yes thank you, if I think of anything else I will be sure to ask you' he smiled gently at you.


End file.
